


Hurt

by HetaliaCrazy12



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Gen, Poor Hanzo Shimada, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HetaliaCrazy12/pseuds/HetaliaCrazy12
Summary: Some days, he feels broke inside, but he won't admit. Some days, he just wants to hide, because it's him he misses. It's so hard to say goodbye, when it comes to this.





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As you've seen in the tags, this story is very sad, and gets quite graphic.   
> Enjoy at your own risk.

_He remembered it so clearly as if it were yesterday. His dark eyes were shining as always, but there was something different about them that made his pale face light up in excitement. It angered him. How could he be so happy in a situation like this? While everyone else was mourning, here he was, grinning from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Morning. In the reflection of his eyes, the older could see himself and knew the other was looking directly at him as well. Whatever this happy occasion was, he'd like to know, because there was nothing uplifting about their father's death._

_"Hanzo!" His voice angered him, too. It, too, was shining. How that was possible was beyond him, as just a few days ago, the younger was seen sobbing in his bedroom. Though, the younger seemed persistent as he gripped his large shoulder and tugged strongly towards the door to their training room. "Come!"_

_The older and much wiser brother followed him, if only for his large curiosity as to why his brother was so happy. Maybe it was time for him to stop mourning, and if his brother was already back on his feet, then it must be worth while. At the time, he remembered thinking it wasn't, but now he wished he could go back._

_As Genji rushed into the room, his soft feet making a slight patter sound as they quietly hit the wood, Hanzo looked around. Nothing stood out to him, nothing new anyway. So what was so interesting? "Genji--" before he could finish, the younger was wielding his sword and shouting wildly in Japanese, and before Hanzo had time to process, a stunning green Spirit Dragon burst from the edge of his blade and swirled around the smaller's strong body. Genji's eyes were a bright red, glowing with happiness and self pride._

_"I've been practicing every night while you slept," Genji said softly and walked closer to his brother. "isn't it cool? I can control the dragons!" As he swiveled his sword in his hand, the dragon followed, spinning around it and slithering down the blade slowly. It sniffed at Hanzo curiously before going back to its previous actions. The younger Japanese seemed so proud, so why didn't he? "I finally did it, brother! Father is proud of me!" Upon his words, the dragon came to start spinning around Genji's waist. The play boy chuckled, and for a moment, Hanzo thought he saw a different man._

_His actions were cruel, and he could almost feel the rush of energy from his brother's body dissipate as he turned a cold shoulder and stormed out the room. It was taking a toll on him. How could Genji be so happy? Their father was dead, and here he was talking about him nonchalantly like they were discussing politics over tea with the Queen of England._

If he could go back, he would have. He would have smiled wide and wrapped his arms around his brother, and together, they would have enjoyed the happy moment while it lasted. His attention would make Genji calm down, and the other would feel self pride all over again. Hell, he would even thank the man and forgive all the times he didn't show up to training. Forgive the time he missed their father's funeral, because he knew the other was in too much sorrow to join. 

There was nothing he wouldn't do to hold Genji in his arms and hear him whisper he loved him one more time. Sometimes, Hanzo would pull out his phone and hold it up to his ear. He would listen to it as the phone rang and rang until a soft voice came over the line, and in the saddest tone ever, say _"You've reached Genji Shimada. I didn't answer because I don't want to hear your sympathy, I don't want it. You're not sorry, you'd be sorry if you did it. Please, don't call me back, I don't want to--"_ and then the beep would come, cutting off Genji's message. 

To put it shortly, the larger Japanese man missed his brother. He regretted everything that happened as a result of his anger and he wondered if Genji would forgive him, too. Genji didn't deserve to be blamed for the things he couldn't do, like take up the position of their late father.

As a result of his actions, he now had to live without the happy-go-lucky voice of his younger brother begging him to come to the bar with him and loosen up a bit. Now, he sat alone with no where to live due to taking down his clan shortly after killing Genji. He had no one to lie next to at night and it hurt. It hurt so much. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel the warmth of happiness in his life, but that flew out the window just like his brother.

Some days, he feels broke inside, but he won't ever admit it. Some days, he just wants to hide and never come out because it's him he misses. What he realized now that he never did before was how hard it was to say goodbye when it came to this; standing before a shrine dedicated to the honor of his brother, and another photo of their father, whom he couldn't speak for. 

Hanzo wondered, would their father tell him of his wrong doings? If he were alive, would the old man come striding into his room to lecture him on family and honor, or would he hold him close and tell him why he was feeling what he was feeling? Tell him that it was okay to cry because it was normal to miss your father, and hurting Genji was not his fault. Wipe away the scars on his wrists and allow the tears to fall from his hardened eyes.

"Are you looking down upon me, Father?" Hanzo spoke aloud to the photo of a strong man wielding a soft smile. "look at what I've become. The monster I created myself to be. Are you proud of who I am?" He felt the forbidden tears to slide down his cheeks, and angrily, the man flicked them away. What he wouldn't give to have one more chance. One more moment where he looked into those shining eyes of amber and saw his brother smiling back. "I'm sorry," he whispered. The tears were falling, and even he, strong Hanzo, couldn't keep them from falling. They seeped past the cracks in his fingers and swallowed themselves in the cracks of his lips. "I'm so sorry." For this once, Hanzo allowed his voice to crack and fill the large, empty room where no one could hear him. No one but his father's judging shadow and brother's frightened soul, screaming over and over for him to stop.

_It's me! Genji!_

"I'm so sorry... for blaming you... it's not your fault," Hanzo cried in attempt to hush the endless screaming of his terrified brother.

_I'm sorry! Hanzo, what are you doing?!_

The scars on his wrists didn't seem deep enough as he glanced at them. They weren't painful enough. _Just another,_ he told himself. Just one more to remind you how your brother felt. _He didn't get to feel relief, why should you?_

The blood slowly trickled down his arm and spiraled around his wrist. It dripped thickly off his finger tips and fell onto the incense offerings and photo of his father. It covered over the memories, and it pained him. His heart ached, but it still wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough to equal the pain his brother felt as he was thrown into a bottomless pit of rejection and betrayal. Another line would be good enough, though. Close enough... _but not nearly close enough._

If he could have one more day to stand before his brother, look into his shining eyes and hold him, he'd whisper to him that he was sorry. He would tell him that he missed him so, and that he'd never let him go again. That he'd never ever touch him again, but that was dangerous.

The blood was thicker now. _Again. It's not deep enough. Again. It doesn't hurt enough. Again. There aren't enough scars to match the charred form that lie on his door step. The broken, beaten, begging, bruised form of what used to be a carefree, happy man just looking for attention. Again. Not enough._

 

Turning back time was so out of line. It was in the past. He wouldn't ever get that moment back. There was never a time where he didn't relive it. Imagine it. Like a broken record, playing over and over until it wore out and stopped working altogether.

_"You'll never amount to anything!" He shouted across the room as he swung his sword and pierced the flesh between his brother's hip and stomach. A growl left his lips, and slight grunt of disgust as blood splattered onto his nicely shined shoes and ironed pants from Genji's mouth. Another hit to his chest would even that out._

_Strong arms wrapped tight around the sword pierced through his chest, and a soft, hitched voice spoke, "D-daddy..."_

Another line on his thigh to remind him of the hurt that coursed through him to hear he suck out his father, rather than the older, wiser, and favored brother. One more for good measures. 

A final long and deep one to let himself bleed out. The final one to remind him of his brother's pained suffering. Of the moments where he didn't have anyone around who truly cared that could help him. Tell him it was okay.

_Just go to sleep... you'll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all just one big nightmare._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you read this at 3:00 A.M. when your feels started to kick in and you realized you couldn't sleep. ;)


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